


beyond the waking world

by Ejunkiet



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dreamsharing, F/M, Fade Dream(s), Tarasyl'an Te'las
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Solas."</p><p>From her place across the room, she could see the moment her greeting reached him, pulling him away from someplace deep within his thoughts. He slowly lowered his brush, resting it against the ceramic he used to mix his paints, his eyes warm as he turned them to her, a soft smile curving the edge of his lips.</p><p>"Vhenan."</p><p>-- </p><p>From a prompt. Solas shows Lavellan another memory in the Fade, and has difficulty keeping his true identity a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the waking world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evil_bunny_king](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_bunny_king/gifts).



> For evil_bunny_king, bless your wicked little heart. This is set immediately after the ball at Halamshiral, after the Inquisitor’s first talk with Morrigan at Skyhold.
> 
> I'm not sure how long exactly this will be. The rating may change in future chapters.

"Solas."

From her place across the room, she could see the moment her greeting reached him, pulling him away from someplace deep within his thoughts. He slowly lowered his brush, resting it against the ceramic he used to mix his paints, his eyes warm as he turned them to her, a soft smile curving the edge of his lips.  
  
"Vhenan."  
  
She leaned back against his desk, choosing her purchase carefully to avoid knocking over the stacks of old volumes and artefacts that littered its surface, and watched as he descended from the scaffolding, twisting from the top of the platform to land delicately on the balls of his feet. There was a lightness to his step as he approached her, hands clasping behind his back even as he cut short the distance between them, looming into her space until his breath ghosted against her skin. He stayed like that for a moment, gaze flickering over her features, lingering, until she made to make a move towards him and he withdrew, lips curling into a softer, more sombre smile. His arm brushed hers as he reached for the stack of tomes, adjusting the angle of one close to the top of the pile.  
  
"Did you have a question, vhenan?"  
  
This was part of their dance, this game of proximity and soft touches, skirting the edges of each other's control, testing boundaries, waiting to see who would break first and take that final step.   
  
It was no wonder that the events at Halamshiral had delighted him. He'd mentioned enjoying the curiosities of court intrigue, but she suspected it was the dance that had held the most appeal, the spectacle of it all. As much as he claimed detachment from the people and events of modern Thedas, it was her belief that he couldn't resist, after all his years in the fade, the chance to live these moments for himself.   
  
She'd had little interest in the machinations of Orlesian politics, but her discussion with Solas during the ball itself had endeavoured to change that. A softly spoken word, pressed in a kiss against her hand as he dipped low in a bow, voice pitched low and full of wonder as the murmurs of the Nobles of Orlais filled the hall around them. "Your actions tonight will determine the future of this country, lethallin."  
  
It had helped her realize, truly, what her role within this charade was. Intentionally or not, his words and their implication had haunted her the rest of the evening.   
  
She had been prepared to shepherd and protect her clan, but filling this position for an entire country, for people she barely knew and could claim little kinship with - that had never been her intention. Yet, with the blood of a Duchess staining her hands and the body of the Empress lying in the great hall, it seemed as if this was to be her role.  
  
A light touch to her arm brought her back to the moment, Solas' eyes on hers as he raised the hand to her cheek, smoothing a thumb across its curve in unspoken question.   
  
"Vhenan."

She hadn’t come here to speak about this, no matter how much the responsibility weighed on her. She reached up to settle her hand over his, squeezing it briefly as she gave him a small smile. The concern in his gaze eased, to be replaced by curiosity as their fingers twined together, coming to rest between them.

"I came to ask you about Tarasyl'an Te'las."  
  
"Ah." His eyes creased into a smile, and he leaned in closer, resting his weight against the table as he considered her for a moment. Seeming to arrive at some conclusion, he inclined his head in a nod, a brow arching as he smiled again. "Would you like to see it for yourself?"

Her brow pinched in confusion. “As in…”

Realisation dawned on her even as she spoke, and he gave a low laugh that devolved into a chuckle as he straightened, tugging at her hand to draw her with him across the room, to where his pallet lay tucked away against one wall.

“I’ve come across more than a few memories of this place in the Fade. The magic here gives them strength, supporting more than one perspective of the story. It’s quite fascinating.”

At his gesture, she took a seat at the foot of the bed, curling her legs into herself as she watched him climb onto the pallet beside her, taking her hand in his once again. With a smile in her direction, he adopted a meditative position, feet folded in at the knees, head bowed. She followed him, although with the speed of her racing heart within her chest, she wondered if she would be able to reach the state of calm required for this process at all.

Letting her eyes slip shut, she took a deep breath, working on the breathing exercises she’d practiced when she was first learning to control her magic. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed to a more manageable pace. Clearing her head was more difficult, but it was easier with a companion beside her, the steady rhythm of his breaths giving her something to focus on, until her breaths were slow and even, and all other distractions had dropped away.

There was a flare of magic beside her, soft and muted, but before she could open her eyes to see what Solas was doing, she felt the press of his aura against hers, calm and sure, guiding as it weaved around hers, until it was impossible to tell where his ended and hers began. He began murmuring something, although she couldn’t make out the words, the swirl of their combined auras winding tighter, faster- before she felt a tug against her consciousness, and with his hand clutched tight in hers, she fell away from the waking world and into a dream.

\---

It was a beautiful dream.

The walls rising around her were familiar, and yet not – the stone was unblemished and shiny, newly crafted and inlaid with marble and glass mosaics, in intricate, complicated patterns that filled the rotunda with shards of glimmering light. The sunlight shone uninhibited through the open ceiling, but although there was nothing visible to the naked eye above her, she could feel the presence of a barrier, set within the stones, that kept the elements at bay.

Creators, she could feel the presence of magic _everywhere_. This was nothing like that shared dream in Haven, although she’d been able to feel the remembered pressure of the rift in the veil pressing down on her from above – this was more, so much _more._ It was in the foundations beneath her feet, the air she breathed, and it set the magic inside of her alight as well, feeding it as if it were kindling to a fire, until she filled fit to burst.

There was a light tugging at her hand, and she glanced down to find Solas’ eyes once more on hers. Another smile played across his lips, before his fingers squeezed around hers again, reminding her that she still had not let go of his hand.

“Are you ready?”

She could not suppress the awe in her voice, almost breathless with it.

“There’s more?”

His laughter here was full and strong, resonating through the chamber. The magic around them reacted to it in small flares of aquamarine light interspersed with gold that highlighted the jutting cut of his features, the gentle curve of his mouth.

It took her a moment to drag her eyes away from the thought, memories of the last time they’d been here to the forefront of her mind – the memory of that kiss, that passion, had kept her company during those few frightening nights in Emprise de Lion after Solas had received too great an injury to be healed by potion, and had to be taken back to Skyhold by caravan  – and then he was pulling away, the hand that had held hers snaking round to rest against the curve of her waist, before he steered them towards a carved alcove on the far side of the room.

“Come. To the Great Hall.”


	2. pear trees and stolen kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She turns over a small card of fluid, flowing script; she can make out a list of services and times sketched out in dark ink across the parchment, the words as beautiful as the card they were written on, veined with gold filament and decorated with subtle, embossed designs. 
> 
> When she rubs her fingertips against the fine parchment, she can feel the lines pressed into the paper by the nib of the quill, and she finds herself tracing familiar words: _mythal, andruil, dirthamen._

If she had marveled at the scope of the keep previously, it was nothing compared to what she is facing now. The structure itself is not quite the same - the great hall swings out into the courtyard, descending in a series of grand steps into the wilderness below, seemingly open to the elements were it not for that veil of magic, a pleasant hum at the fringes of her senses.

If the scale of the great hall isn't enough - easily two fold greater than Skyhold, and thrice the height - then there's the marvel of its architecture, an impossible blend of glass and intricate silvery metal that should not be able to support the weight of such a large structure, yet stands tall and proud against the sky. Nature breaks through: small fruit trees and vines intertwine the pillars, interspersed with intricate structures carved from a pale, glimmering stone that pulsed with magic like the beating of a living heart.  
  
The memory is perfect, down to the most intimate detail - the damp heaviness of the air, the smell of water and earth, the prelude to the storm she can see building on the horizon. A glance at Solas finds his eyes closed, head back, nostrils flaring as he takes in a long, deep breath, and she takes one in turn, the tension in the air sending a thrill through her chest. The veil must be thinner here, or the magic within the stone stronger than she ever could have imagined. She would never have dreamed walking the fade with such clarity.  
  
"This is... almost beyond imagining."  
  
His lips twitch with a suppressed smile as he sends her a sidelong glance, his eyes glittering beneath his lashes. "I can think of more impossible things, lethallin."

His voice is low, a smile tweaking at the edges of his lips as his hand squeezes around hers.  
  
"Shall we continue?"  
  
His hand remains in hers, large and warm, as they follow a trail lined in soft grasses further into the great hall as and into the courtyard, twining beneath a low canopy of heavily scented flowers and old, wizened trees. Dotted here and there are seating areas, carved from that same glowing stone that sustained the magic in the air around them; impossibly intricate and fragile, almost certainly too delicate to support any weight. They are as much as part of the nature around them as the grasses beneath their feet.  
  
Stepping closer, she notices something at her feet and bends to pick it up. She turns over a small card of fluid, flowing script; she can make out a list of services and times sketched out in dark ink across the parchment, the words as beautiful as the card they were written on, veined with gold filament and decorated with subtle, embossed designs.

When she rubs her fingertips against the fine parchment, she can feel the lines pressed into the paper by the nib of the quill, and she finds herself tracing familiar words: _mythal_ , _andruil_ , _dirthamen_.

"This was a temple." It’s not a question, the card heavy and solid in her hand as she looks to Solas with a smile, pleased at her revelation. He pauses on the path, his eyes questioning as they glance to her, then to the script in her hand, a flash surprise flitting across his features. The moment passes almost as quickly as it had arrived, too quickly for her to comment, as his lips curve into a gentle smile. "It would translate as such. Mainly, it remained empty, used only by a few as a hermitage.”

“But it didn’t belong to a member of the pantheon.”

“No, it did not. It belonged to them all.” His eyes are burning with curiosity as he takes a step closer, glancing between her and the note. “You can read the script?”

She nods, glancing back at the card, before she realises that the words have changed, the shapes of the letters alien to her. She shakes her head, but the words only blur before her eyes; “I – I could. It faded, though.”

"The memory is better executed than I would have hoped. I was right about you, lethallin - you have a rare gift. The ability to command the fade, and draw focus from it, just as you command the devotion and respect of your people."  
  
_Your_ people. In one breath, they were kin, in the other, they were not. Outsider. He'd dodged her earlier line of questioning when she'd asked about his people, complimenting her on the question and turning the conversation back to Corypheus - but his evasion was becoming more obvious, less subtle, and as their relationship progresses, she's brought back again and again to the question: why.

They've experienced enough that she is confident in his feelings for her - the memories of Redcliffe will haunt her for the rest of her waking life - but it's evident that he is holding himself back. What is it that he is so driven to hide, and why won’t he speak of it to her?  
  
And he seems to notice; a flash of something flits across his expression before he removes his hand from hers, resting his palm against her cheek. His breath feathers along the length of her ear before he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath it, a wordless apology.

“Come, vhenan. There’s more to see.”

They wander further into the hall, between the stone arches that line the innermost edges of the room, outlining a path that weaves a meandering trail through the indoor garden. They set off on the path, the familiar hum of ancient magic - elvhen, like those within the runes she had found scattered across the exalted plains - dogging their footsteps.  
  
Solas is a pleasant distraction at her side, his fingers lingering around her waist as they approach the dais where she passed her judgement as inquisitor, now a sparkling fountain, the outlines limned in silver and white rock. He draws away from her then to approach a nearby fruit tree, picking a gleaming pear from the branch, studying it with a quiet intensity that he seemed to reserve for matters of the fade.  
  
Before she can say anything, warn him of the dangers of accepting gifts from a dream - the voice of her old keeper rising suddenly in her memory, warning her that temptation, da'len, can come in many forms - he takes a bite, a stream of juice running down his chin. She's transfixed, a hand at her side quivering in an aborted grab for her absent staff as she watches him chew his mouthful thoughtfully, swallowing with a small, contented noise.  
  
"Delicious."  
  
"By Mythal, why would you – how can you so easily throw caution to the wind?"  
  
He takes another bite, a brow raising as he turns his eyes back to her, open curiosity in his gaze. "What is there to fear?"  
  
She declines when he offers the fruit to her, sparking a mischievous glint in his eye that foretells trouble. He draws closer as she eyes him warily, pressing a hand against his chest in warning as he comes to a stop just ahead of her, a measure of enjoyment flickering across his expression before he makes his move.

She's caught nearly entirely by surprise when he leans in and presses a gentle kiss against her lips.  
  
For a moment, she loses track of where and when they are. They've done this before - but only once, and she'd nearly forgotten the heat of it _here_ , in the murky shadows of the Fade. It's both dizzying and intoxicating; the simple contact forging a connection between their sleeping minds that sinks beneath the skin, a caress that goes beyond the physical. It's intimate, more-so than she is used to, and yet she finds herself pressing closer, sinking her fingers into the fabric of Solas' tunic to keep him close.

It takes a significant amount of concerted effort and will for her to draw herself away from that touch, and she regrets it almost immediately when she raises a hand once again to keep the distance between them.  
  
"Solas-"  
  
Solas doesn't let her continue, taking her hand in his as he presses in closer, the hand at her waist sliding up her back to pull her in tighter. There's that same smile on his lips as he presses one more kiss against her lips, then another, movements slow and languorous, coaxing her into response until she throws caution to the wind and tastes the sweetness of the juice for herself.  
  
It's several minutes before they break apart, and it takes her a moment to remember how to breathe.  
  
"Cheater."  
  
He laughs again, long and full, until she can’t help but join him, the sound of their combined laughter filling the great hall with life once again. he takes her hand and pulls her further along the path.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to chat with me at my [tumblr~](http://ejunkiet.tumblr.com/)


End file.
